


Mother

by AlchemK



Series: Poems on Liberation [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemK/pseuds/AlchemK
Summary: Alexander's contemplations on his founded grief over his mother.





	Mother

I remember the moments when my mother 

Caressed her hand over my face.

She looked down at me with a smile-

She made it seem like a holy place.  

 

I remember the moments when she, tired, 

Stood by the sea 

Waiting for me- 

A memory I would never erase. 

 

This place was the only hell I knew,

Slaves toiling in sweat day and night 

I couldn’t turn my head even if I wanted

So dark, as if there weren’t any daylight. 

 

She was my light, my only hope 

Her embrace was sweet- 

None would ever compete 

Like I the student and she the erudite. 

 

Sickness came like a vicious storm- 

The hurricane that sacked the island 

Nothing was worse than that shitstorm 

That destroyed what housed my will 

 

At times I wished to be a Faucette,

The Hamilton name soiled 

The snake should uncoil 

From around my heart, my red spill. 

 

I remember the moments where she lay there 

Smiling that same perfect smile 

She whispered my name so soft 

And told me to get off this isle, 

 

This damn Caribbean hell. 

She didn’t breathe 

I didn’t see 

Her chest heave, her last smile. 

 

In the eye of a hurricane

There is quiet

For just a moment-

The brightest smile. 

 

When I was seventeen a hurricane

Destroyed my hope

I couldn’t cope 

My heart was defiled. 

 

That mother of mine was gone 

No longer a light in my life.

Grief alighted my mind 

Wishing that I too had died.

 

_ I wrote my way out _

_ Wrote everything down far as I could see _

_ I wrote my way out _

_ I looked up and the town had its eyes on me _

 

_ I was twelve when my mother died _

_ She was holding me- _

_ We were sick and she was holding me _

_ I couldn’t seem to die.  _

 

_ I wrote my way out of hell _

_ I wrote my way to revolution _

_ I was louder than the crack in the bell _

_ I wrote Eliza love letters until she fell _

_ I wrote about The Constitution and defended it well _

_ And in the face of ignorance and resistance _

_ I wrote financial systems into existence _

_ And when my prayers to God were met with indifference _

 

_ I picked up a pen, I wrote my own sufferance.  _

**Author's Note:**

> y'all thought I was dead but I'M NOT HERE I AM AGAIN 
> 
> This is the opposite of a great thing to write right before Mother's Day but here it is.


End file.
